


Til I Remember Lending Softer Ears to My Lungs

by BroadwayBaggins



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Jed and Mary in Boston, Things said with too many miles between us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroadwayBaggins/pseuds/BroadwayBaggins
Summary: "I was angry with you, you know." Jed hears some harsh truths.
Relationships: Jedediah "Jed" Foster/Mary Phinney
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Til I Remember Lending Softer Ears to My Lungs

“I was angry with you, you know.”

Mary’s words were so quiet that Jed, pausing in his morning perusal of the newspaper–it had become one of their rituals now that he was here in Boston, as well as reading aloud any letters from Mansion House–almost thought he imagined them. When he looked up, bringing the paper away from his face to look at her fully, she was staring down at her hands where they rested, folded, atop the sheets of her sickbed. Even now that she was finally beginning to truly convalesce, her skin looked so pale, almost blending in with the bedclothes, and Jed longed to take her hands in his as he had done so many times before, in an attempt to rub some warmth and color back into them. Jed blinked at her in confusion, folding up the newspaper and setting it beside her on the bed. “Mary?” he asked softly, and still she did not look up at him. “What did you say?”

“I was angry with you,” she whispered, as if frightened to admit it–the thought, his Mary, frightened of him! It tore at his heart and he reached for her hand, closing his fingers around hers, and she clung to him as if she were still concerned that she would wake up and find his presence here a dream, as if she wanted him to tether her to earth.

“Angry?” he asked, still confused beyond all belief. “What? When?”

“When they first brought me here. When I first got back to Boston. I don’t remember much of it–I was so sick, so feverish–but Sarah told me. I was angry, and scared, and so, so alone. And I cried out.”

“Cried out?”

“For you. I cried your name over and over and you never came, _couldn’t_ come, and I cursed your name and the day I ever met you because you had let them send me away. Because you didn’t fight for me, fight McBurney to let me stay…I didn’t know what I was saying, Jed, and I don’t remember much of it, but from what Sarah has said…I know they must have been awful things. Things you didn’t deserve. I was just so angry, so heartbroken…” Her voice broke a little then. “I think the doctor…I think I required sedation at one point, I don’t…I don’t remember…”

“Mary,” he whispered, shocked that she was confiding in him like this, his heart breaking at the thought of her calling for him when he was hundreds of miles away.

“I was angry and you didn’t deserve it–”

“Mary, my Mary, no,” he whispered, his other hand coming to rest on top of both of hers. “I’m sure I deserved each and every one of those things you said, and more. You’ve always been the one to put me in my place, and there’s never been a time when I didn’t deserve it. And you’re absolutely right, I _should_ have fought for you, I never should have let them–”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Mary cut in, tears shining in her huge brown eyes. Jed longed to reach out and brush one away as it fell–and then did just that, as he remembered that he finally could, that they were not bound by the same rules as they had been at Mansion House…

She leaned into his touch, and he cupped her pale cheek in his hand. “I could have done more. I should have done more. And you had–you _have_ –every right to be angry with me. I should have fought like hell so you could stay–because that’s what you would have done for me. That’s what you _did_ do, with the morphine. But I promise you, Mary Phinney–my Mary. I’m here now, and I won’t go away again. Not without you by my side. I didn’t fight for you before, but by God, I will fight for you now. Today and every day forward.” 

He leaned towards her then, intending just to kiss her forehead. As soon as his lips touched her skin, he trailed them down across her closed eyelids, her cheeks–tasting slightly of salt now from her tears–the tip of her nose, and then finally, her lips, pressing the gentlest of kisses there until he felt her start to return it. When they broke away and he met her eyes again, he kept his hands on her cheeks, gently stroking the pale skin there and wishing he could stay like this forever and never have to move again.

“I’m here, Mary,” he promised. “And I always will be, and I will always, always fight for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> MercuryGray sent me a prompt a while back with the theme "things you said with too many miles between us." This was the result.
> 
> I couldnt for the life of me remember the name of Mary's housekeeper (?) in Boston, so I went with Sarah. The title of the piece comes from the song "The Mortal Boy King" by The Paper Kites, which lyrically doesn't quite fit, but is one of my favorite Phoster songs. <3


End file.
